


Hush, Little Baby

by SiZodiac



Series: Charlotte Name AUs [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Conflict of Interests, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Gen, Meet the Family, Other, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23921938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiZodiac/pseuds/SiZodiac
Summary: AU. Charlotte siblings fell from the sky and landed in Warlord territory. Namely, just another normal day in the New World.
Series: Charlotte Name AUs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1327403
Comments: 11
Kudos: 36





	1. Fitcher's Bird

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Thicker Than Blood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6501565) by [ScriptedScarlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptedScarlet/pseuds/ScriptedScarlet). 



> Final installment for the Charlotte Name series, introducing the youngest baby generation.

**Fitcher's Bird**

~ Whole Cake Island, Tottoland ~  
Anana (age 6), Normande (age 8)

“Don’t give her any knives, Mama! She’ll pop our balloons!”

Six-year-old Charlotte Anana dragged her stuffed bunny by the ears and stomped through the sixth floor baum corridor of Whole Cake Chateau, her red eyes narrowed in bad-tempered frustration. She had no particular destination in mind, fuming at her older brothers Dolce and Dragee for denying all her fun. She found herself before the gigantic homie double doors leading to the veranda garden.

The lowest handle was too high for her to reach. Anana pouted, kicking the chocolate slab to wake the homie up from slumber. “Open up,” Anana ordered, throwing back wavy pale pink hair. The doors obeyed with a singsong of cheery off tune choir, allowing the youngest Charlotte child to step outside onto the soft carpet of sugary icing.

Anana breathed in fresh air, to clear her thoughts.

A butterfly with dainty translucent wings landed on her nose, gentle breeze tickling her cheek. Anana giggled, her childish annoyance quickly forgotten. “You’re pretty,” Anana said to the strange butterfly.

“Thank you, Anana,” came the soft reply. In a swirl, the insect enlarged, to become a palm-sized dwarf girl in claret skirt with bushy brown tail, her pink-rimmed insect wings fluttering tirelessly in the air to maintain hovering flight. Charlotte Normande received her devil fruit as her seventh birthday present last year from her older brother Raisin, giving her the ability to turn into a cithaerias glasswing butterfly.

Anana squeaked in delight. “Sister Normande! I didn’t know you can become so tiny!”

“Really cool, right?” Normande twirled around in pride. “Brother Raisin and Sister Panna told me to keep this shrinking power to myself, better for reconance—reconsis—uh, secret stealth missions.”

“That is so awesome!” Anana clapped her hands. “Do it again! Do it again, Sister Normande! Pleeease?”

Normande let out a soft musical laugh, happy to comply.

.

Newshi (age 16), Wafers (age 11), Uiro (age 10)

It was a lazy mid-morning within the Whole Cake Chateau. The buzzing of general activity low, with homies languidly idled in the hallways and few people going about their daily routine.

Sixteen-year-old Charlotte Newshi went into the Chateau Library located on the fifth floor seeking for a secluded private corner, before propping open several guides on etiquette before him upon the oblong baguette table. Newshi tidied his matted purple hair and held out an arm, imagining himself practicing manners with an invisible partner. “Can I have this dance?” Newshi asked, taking an awkward bow.

“May I,” Wafers corrected her older brother’s linguistic grammar from a champignon stool to the side, her smaller body concealed beneath the shadow of bookshelves. She flipped to the next page on the novel she was currently reading. Charlotte Wafers turned eleven less than two weeks ago and today, she wore a cyan minidress decorated with indigo flounces to bring out the color of her amethyst eyes.

Newshi straightened up, adjusting the crease on his bespoke cerulean suit and lavender tie. “I didn’t notice you there, Wafers,” Newshi stated, then stopped. “Hey wait, I thought you were supposed to be on the way to Wheat Island by now? I remember Mama telling you to train your new power with Brother Katakuri during the birthday tea party, when you received that Flour Fruit as present.”

“Yeah, well,” Wafers shrugged. “Didn’t work out.”

“What does that mean?” Newshi asked.

“It means she did not eat the devil fruit, Brother Newshi.”

A new voice joined in from across the room. Newshi whipped his head around to the opposite end of the refectory table, where several stacks of books blocked the speaker from view. A couple encyclopedias were pulled down, and a young half-snakeneck boy poked his head of spiky puce hair out from behind.

Newshi rubbed his brow. “Uiro,” Newshi groaned, barely keeping his exasperation in check. Since Newshi was among the more serious of the youngest generation siblings, he would often fret when siblings within his age group dodge responsibilities. “Why are you not with Brother Counter now? It’s currently time for your basic haki lessons!”

“I am not interested in combat, Brother Newshi,” Uiro replied.

“Well, that’s not our choice,” Newshi argued. “We carry the Charlotte name, it is our born duty to contribute into Mama's empire.”

“Let me rephrase then,” Uiro closed the book he was skimming through, without needing to bookmark the page, because ten-year-old Charlotte Uiro had eidetic memory that allowed him the ability to remember everything he ever read. “I am not interested in combat, quintessential as it may be, because that would be time wasted and counterproductive, especially consider the better alternative I can offer for Mama.”

Newshi crossed his arms, not convinced. “What would that be?”

Uiro grinned. “What is the one person Tottoland still need, to be recognized as a true kingdom, Brother Newshi?”

Newshi rolled his beady eyes, hidden by purple bangs. “I don’t know. A king?”

“A diplomat,” Uiro replied, with an air of confidence in his tone. “Sixteen is the legal age considered by the World Government, so I plan to get our family a seat in the Reverie when I turn sixteen. That is only six short years from now, meaning I have no time to squander on standard training, when everyone else within our family is fully capable of _that_. Trust me when I say the physical military aspect is the easier part.”

Uiro patted his beloved books. “No, this—the intellectual aspect—is what I need to focus on now, study up on international relationships and global trades.” Uiro grinned again, though this time with a hint of self-deprecation. “Besides, we need to put up a facade of harmless amiability when joining the international court. In a way, it is actually more ideal if I were truly incapable of combat.”

Newshi was rendered speechless, because his little brother made a lot of sense.

Wafers chuckled, “You’re not going to win any argument against Uiro, Brother Newshi. He is just too good.”

“I... see,” Newshi said slowly. “But perhaps you—”

—BAM!!

The library gate slammed open, interrupting their conversation.

Anana appeared at the doorway, toy bunny in her arms, face ashen with nervous anxiety and breathing fast from running. “Brother Newgo!” Anana cried, sprinting over, her fingers grasped tightly onto the much taller Charlotte brother’s leg and unavoidably wrinkling his trousers. “Please help! I need to get something stuck on top of our castle, but it’s too high and I can’t fly!”

Wafers tilted her head. “You usually get Dolce for this kind of thing.”

Anana sulked, releasing her grip and taking a small step backwards. “We’re fighting. I’m not talking to Brother Dolce, not unless he says sorry,” Anana replied. She then turned her gaze to the decuplet son. “So... Are you going to help me, Brother Newgo?”

Newshi sweat-dropped, though he was expecting the unintentional misnaming—too common occurrence unfortunately, that served as a social sequelae for his personal medical history. He inwardly debated on whether to correct his little sister’s honest mistake, before changing his mind with an indulging sigh. “Sure,” Newshi answered, leaning down to take Anana’s hand. “Lead the way.”

Anana nodded, pulling her brother into the hall. Wafers with curiosity piqued, put away her novel and followed after them.

Charlotte Uiro glanced after the trio, his brilliant mind completing a rapid calculation in those short seconds and his pursed lips uncharacteristically downturned. Already he could anticipate the problem his siblings were going to encounter, so Uiro got up and walked toward a bookcase in search of the best solution.

.

Anana brought her brother and sister outdoor, to the sixth floor terrace, where she had been loitering around before. From her vantage, she pointed to the very top of the chateau. Newshi and Wafers gazed up.

There, perching atop a protruding precipice near the nineth floor cake frosting, was a News Coo seagull.

Newshi and Wafers turned back to their littlest sister, their confusion almost palpable in their scrutiny. Anana blushed. “Er, umm,” Anana scuffed her shoe. “Sister Normande was playing with me, and umm, she turned very small.”

“And?” Wafers asked.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Anana cried. Her eyes watered in evident distress.

Wafers nodded. “It’s okay, Anana. Please tell us what happened?”

Anana’s lips quivered. “Sister Normande turned very small,” she repeated, in a quiet despondent whisper. “And that stupid bird ate her!”

Newshi choked out a laugh, before turning it into a cough halfway. Wafers rolled her eyes.

The youngest Charlotte child scowled harder. “I’m telling the truth!” Anana whined, holding her fur toy defensively to her chest. “So are you going to help me or not?”

Newshi gazed up again to measure the distance. That sea bird was... quite a bit farther away than he initially thought. Newshi was capable of performing ‘Moonwalk’ since fourteen, but he was not yet proficient at it. Maintaining altitude for more than a few minutes would be difficult enough, even without attempting to catch a flying creature, and plummeting from that height would risk accidentally breaking his neck.

Anana did not know the conflict going through her brother’s head, her wide innocent eyes sparkling in anticipation.

Newshi didn’t want to disappoint his little sister. He took a deep breath to steady himself, before preparing to skip into the air...

“WAIT! BROTHER NEWSHI!”

... and promptly face-planted into the vanilla frosting. Wafers winced on her older brother’s behalf.

Newshi pushed himself up with a groan, to see Uiro belatedly making his way onto the terrace as well. The half-snakeneck boy was hauling a bulky animal compendium behind him. “You completely ruined my gig,” Newshi complained.

“How about, consider this my apology?” Uiro grinned, flipping to a page. A living white bird with black-tipped wings was pinned inside, squawking in dismay, the introduction on that page read ‘Wandering Albatross’ found in South Blue. “I figured you would run into trouble with the flight distance, so I thought you can give this a try.”

Newshi opened his mouth, stopped to consider, and then finally uttered in awe. “You are a genius, Uiro.”

The half-snakeneck boy grinned wider. “I know I am,” Uiro smirked.

Newshi was content to acknowledge his little brother’s erudite gift this time around, and conceded his ground with a smile. Anana watched on curiously between her older brothers, Wafers just shook her head with a small chuckle.

“Well then,” Newshi unpinned the white bird from its paper prison, clearing his throat. “Time to work my devil fruit magic,” Newshi announced. “ _Merge_.”

A beam of pink and turquoise light engulfed the decuplet boy. Soon in his place was a larger-than-person cerulean feathered albatross, spreading majestic purple wings, and wearing a distinctive bowler hat. “Huh,” the albatross said in Newshi’s voice. “I don’t have hands anymore though. Am I supposed to catch that News Coo with my mouth?”

Wafers came closer to lightly stroke her brother’s puff of gorget feathers. “You are big enough for me to ride on. Carry me there and I’ll catch the bird for you,” Wafers tilted her head, amethyst eyes sharp with intent. “I can knock it out with my haki, once I get close enough.”

Newshi agreed with his sister’s plan, so he lowered himself to allow Wafers easier access to climb onboard. Newshi wasn’t expecting another pair of tiny hands to cling onto him though. “Anana?” Newshi asked, “What are you doing?”

“I want to ride you, too!” Anana said, “Please, flying seems a lot of fun. You’re big enough for both of us.”

“But...”

“Please. Please. Pleeease.”

Newshi tested his balance with two younger sisters securely mounted on his back, stretching his vast wings wide and filled them with air. He had practiced merging with avian creatures before, so traveling this way was not a foreign concept, but he had to make sure it was safe for his sisters as well. Fortunately, both Wafers and Anana were physically small, especially when comparing to him. “You have to hold on tight though. Use both hands, Anana, so don’t bring your toy along.”

“Okay!” Anana agreed, dropping her inanimate companion.

“Hurry, Brother Newshi,” Wafers said, finger pointing upwards. “That News Coo is flying away.”

“What! That’s not good!” Newshi exclaimed, flapping his wings and lifting them over the ledge of the chateau.

“Go! Go! Go!” Anana shouted, giddy and carefree. “Let’s get our sister back!”

“Try to return home before supper!” Uiro called after them, waving his goodbye.

And so the young Charlotte siblings were off. Beneath them was a deadly thousand-meter drop, and above them the start of an adventure. They were soaring higher and higher, getting closer to the cotton candy clouds, and then soon above that sugar floss, chasing after invisible breadcrumbs scattered through the sky.

Unbeknownst to them, it would be a long hunt through swift protean wind currents. Hazardous New World gales carrying them several hundred kilometers farther than their original plan. Wafers would unleash her conqueror’s haki first chance she got, after hours of tedious pursuit, and the News Coo seagull would fall from the sky, only to be lost somewhere within a bustling island nation.

A nation of flower fields, seafood cuisines, fairies, toys, and battle colosseum.

The Warlord territory, Dressrosa.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More in-depth detail on Newshi’s personal history, please read **Family Album** Ch7., to fully understand the reason he is deliberately chosen among the decuplets as owner of the Gocha-Gocha Mix Fruit. Uiro and Mont-d’Or have the highest IQ among the Charlotte siblings.
> 
> Wafers having conqueror’s haki is to serve as a thematic distaff parallel to Katakuri, because of course the children to inherit the king quality would be the kindest and least ambitious among the Charlotte siblings, almost youngest daughter and almost eldest son, with their hair/eye colors (purplish red, dark red) intentionally reversed.


	2. Prince Charming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the Charlotte princes.

**Prince Charming**

~ Sevio District, Dressrosa ~  
Newshi (age 16)

Wafers had excellent control over her conqueror’s haki, especially so considering her very young age, since it was the primary focus of her training due to insisting on a pacifist disposition. Combining that rare talent with her observation haki, Wafers was capable of essentially sniping down that News Coo from over fifty meters away.

An unexpected hitch in their plan still occurred however, when that annoying bird nosedived behind the looming rocky perimeter of an island and disappeared from view.

It was already late afternoon by then and Newshi was somewhat tired after flying for eight hours. To make matters worse, Anana was bored. “Are we there yet?” Anana asked for the umpteenth time, her interest had dwindled into less than nothing within the first hour of their trip.

“Almost,” Newshi pulled higher, using the low clouds as cover to sneak past border control, since none of them had the credentials required for entering any World Government associated islands. He followed the newspaper seagull’s estimated falling trajectory, observing the nation below from bird-eye view. The island had a curious architect formation, huge arch bridge bisecting the land, with lively city on one side and forest greenery on another.

“We’re here!” Newshi announced, landing gently on the outskirt of the shabbier district, amidst shelter of lush foliage, with the occasional brick spires and concrete towers interspersing the countryside landscape. The contemporary city on the opposite peninsula intimidated him somewhat, because he had never seen such a sprawling metropolis before, with Sweet City as capital of Tottoland perhaps only quarter of that size.

Wafers hopped off her brother’s back and then helped Anana dismount, so that Newshi could undo his transformation. The albatross made a successful escape at freedom once it was released.

“I’m hungry,” Anana said, feeling absolutely miserable. It had been eight hours and they missed both lunch and merienda.

Wafers broke off a branch from the nearby tree, to lightly nip at its leaf, but to her disappointment found the vegetation inedible. Wafers and Anana were at a loss, having never seen the outside world before, so they both turned to their older brother for help.

Fortunately Newshi had some experience, having conducted several espionage missions since turning fifteen last year and eager to help out Mama. He understood that to survive on foreign lands, the first thing he needed to procure was currency, though he could never blend in as Newsan effortlessly could.

“I saw a pawnbroker shop from the sky nearby, I’ll go get us some cash,” Newshi said, pulling off his tie, made from the finest designer silk. “Wait here. Remember to keep your head down and your guard up, we are in World Government territory.”

Wafers and Anana nodded, taking seats on a fallen log. They watched their older brother leave with wariness in their eyes.

.

Bells chimed. Newshi entered the pawnshop, to place his mulberry silk tie upon the weathered countertop. “How much can I get for this?” Newshi asked politely.

The aged proprietor’s eyebrows went up, into his hairline. The young man—or was he a child?—was reasonably tall at just over two meters in height, fairly handsome, with a peculiar stance of pompous self-importance that spoke of privileged background and wealth. Obviously a stranger to this country as well. The dealer took the lavender tie with poorly concealed suspicion, fingering the smooth texture, and immediately his attitude changed.

“Eight hundred beli.”

“Come on, you’re totally ripping me off,” Newshi frowned. “This is made from mulberry silk, should worth at least twenty thousand apiece.”

“Take it or leave it.”

Newshi picked up the tie.

“Wait,” the shopkeeper leaped out of his seat with a comical windmill of hands. “How about twelve hundred beli instead?”

After some consideration, Newshi relented.

A resounding crash came from the basement storage just as they were sorting out the coinage. A young woman in pixie cut hairstyle stormed out to the front counter, face flushed in mortification. “Ah-ahh, y-y-you...? Why? How?”

Newshi canted his head in detached puzzlement.

The shopkeeper discreetly pushed the woman away, vexed at the interruption. “Sorry for my assistant. She is quite nosy.”

“It is fine,” Newshi replied, taking the coins. A sequin badge on that woman’s sash caught his eye before she disappeared back into the cellar, faint glitter of the letters BMP that might mean nothing at all. Newshi still had two sisters waiting for him though, so no time to waste on trivial matters. He turned to exit the reseller, when he was distracted yet again, this time by the billboard for WANTED posters.

“Why is the poster on top crossed out?” Newshi asked, honestly confused.

“Oh, that,” the shopkeeper nodded, arms akimbo with a considerable amount of pride. “That one belonged to our very gracious king, Donquixote Doflamingo. His bounty was frozen after gaining Warlord status, eight years ago.”

Newshi was feeling uneasy now, because he knew what happen to most pirates when they ran into Warlords. Best case scenario would be a merciful death, which was not something anyone should look forward to, made worse since he currently had two younger sisters under his solo care. Why on earth did they have to land in this particular island?

Right, first things first. Newshi went into the local bazaar following his nose, a couple mangy street urchins ran past him in the market playing with an animated gator-truck assembled from meccano pieces. Newshi thought the toy was a homie and paid it no mind, before promptly doing a double take, because that was definitely _not_ a homie.

Newshi couldn’t help but start noticing more living toys after that, going about random activity around every street corner. This place was certainly up to New World standard of bizarre, Newshi concluded, as he purchased two hefty bags of roscos fritos and fartons from a faceless amish doll, and then went to a hawker cart that sold sizable caramel apples. Newshi was humming a chipper melody to himself on the detour back into the woods when another interlude occurred, his path blocked by a group of two dozen men that surrounded him just as he left the market booth.

“What,” Newshi deadpanned, perturbed, since he did try to lay low. “I didn’t do anything.”

A man wearing an eyepatch sneered. “You shouldn’t have wandered into the wrong place, rich boy.”

“This is surreal, I cannot believe someone sold me out already,” Newshi grumbled. He put down the groceries and fastened his topaz cufflinks. “World Government territory is supposed to be safe, with low crime rate and stuff. You guys are ruining my expectation.”

The men stared blankly, and then guffawed. “Bad luck, kid. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“The easy way?”

“Strip and scram, or we do it for you.”

If Newshi were flippant like his identical brothers Newichi or Newji, he would offer a witty one-liner. Instead, Newshi kicked off the ground without warning and ‘Shave’ across the pavement, his right fist digging hard into a bulky bucktoothed man’s solar plexus.

The man gasped, dropping his stave, that Newshi snatched from mid-air to smack another three men in the throat and stomach and shin, before swiping the legs out from underneath the fourth assailant. The fifth attacker rushed at him from the left, golok machete swinging down while hollering on top of his lungs like an undignified rabid animal. Newshi flicked his stave accurately to hit the crazed man’s wrist, relieving him of the curved blade before he made a quick grab for the fallen golok. With two weapons now in his hands, stave and blade, Newshi slapped his right palm and left palm together.

“Merge!” Newshi called, forging a straight-handled scythe from the ingredients at hand, that much better accommodated his battle style.

Someone drew a pistol and pulled the trigger amid the chaos. Newshi jerked back on reflex, spinning the makeshift scythe to deflect bullets and parried away swords. More opponents attempted to swarm him, having finally figured out that this pampered ‘rich boy’ was no typical pushover, but to little avail. Newshi methodically whacked them across the temples with the flat sides of his blade, applying knees and elbows when his enemies got too close, and then following through with rapid jabs at their chests using the far end of his snath.

The last would-be assailant had his cudgel sliced down the middle. It would have been his skull next if Newshi hadn’t halted his strike an inch above that man’s brow, before flipping his weapon to bash with the blunt blade spine.

Two dozen men were on the ground in a matter of minutes, moaning in pain or unconscious.

Satisfied with the result, Newshi pulled his lapels straight and checked over his bespoke suit for crease or tear, always mindful of his appearance as he was taught. Carelessly Newshi cast aside the makeshift scythe to retrieve his bags of supplies, his sisters still very much in his mind, with the merged weapon separating once again into stave and blade upon losing direct devil fruit contact.

“You’re very good.”

Newshi whipped around at that voice.

Leaning on the main trunk of a broadleaf evergreen was an androgynous blond boy wearing horned cap, loose blouse, purple velvet hot pants, and six-inch rhinestone stiletto heels. Dellinger grinned, his smile coy yet with a hint of something more vicious.

Newshi blinked, taken aback by the comment, and then felt his face heat up in fervid embarrassment. Growing up with the Charlotte name meant he was constantly overshadowed by accomplished siblings, that achievement was expected as norm and very rarely praised. Newshi could crack cement and skip through air at supersonic speed since fourteen, exceptional compared to any human child, yet was nothing noteworthy within their family when all nine other of his blood siblings could do the same.

Newshi had not received any personal compliment for a very long time. To make matters even more awkward, the blond boy was cute enough to serve as unneeded distraction, causing him to lose focus.

“Umm, I... thank you?” Newshi said, adjusting the bags in his arms, and then immediately wanted to hit himself for the awful delivery.

Dellinger glanced at the food bags, then at the two dozen unconscious Donquixote Pirate subordinates. Bunch of worthless garbage, that only managed to send the family a short message before getting their asses kicked. Speaking of which, Dellinger gazed curiously up at the impressively tall boy that seemed about his age, perhaps slightly older by a year or two. “Why didn’t you kill them? You’re not squeamish, are you?”

“Wha...? No, course not!” Newshi exclaimed, for some reason knowing that having an arbitrary aversion to homicide would lose him points with the petite lad.

“So, why not kill them?” Dellinger asked again, tilting his head. 

Newshi could think of many reasons, as a youngest generation Charlotte son.

Because bloodlust was especially discouraged for Charlotte siblings tasked with the responsibility to put up an appealing noble front. Because any bloodshed done should only be executed under Mama’s explicit command. Because bloodbath in this region would risk drawing unwanted Warlord attention.

Newshi shrugged, offering the easiest explanation. “I don’t want to accidentally anger the authority of this kingdom. I am an outlander after all, as you can probably guess.”

Dellinger laughed out loud. “Well said, but a bit late for that! Kyahahaha!”

Newshi pursed his lips, instantly on guard.

Dellinger smirked mischievously, thoroughly enjoying the fact that he could unnerve the much taller boy. “Relax, hotshot. I admit I was sent here to take care of the commotion you caused, seeing as I am an Army Officer for the Donquixote Family, but I’ve changed my mind. You are not so bad combat-wise, and already know to respect Young Master’s wishes.”

High heels clicked on the pavewalk, tap-tap-tap, and Dellinger continued in a lazy drawl, “I figure it is better to take you to the Corrida Colosseum, rather than kill you now.”

Mentally sending a silent apology to his sisters, but understanding that the more responsible thing to do now would be to divert possible hostiles away. Newshi breathed in and forced a gentle curve onto his dry lips, recalling all his lessons from home. That taught him to be pleasant, to be placid, to be pliable, and most importantly to be unthreatening.

“Thank you, for your kindness. I will follow your instruction and do as I am told.”

“Good,” Dellinger nodded, very pleased with the outcome. “I am Dellinger by the way. What should I call you?”

“Newshi,” Charlotte Newshi replied. “Just, Newshi.”

.

~ Wheat Island, Tottoland ~  
Katakuri (age 46)

_Purupurupuru- purupurupuru-_

Charlotte Katakuri sat cross-legged upon the bottom floor roof of the donut hotel that served as central landmark for Flour Town, the arching ring of his dough penthouse stretched high overhead and an escargatoire of Den-Den Mushi was chattering before him. Katakuri silently observed the jovial borough he governed from the spacious aperture, thoughts occupied by weary concern. The sun was inching frustratingly closer toward the horizon, ticking away the hours.

Charlotte siblings missing training sessions on occasion was not all that strange.

_Purupurupuru- click!_

“All travel out of Tottoland has been temporarily put on hold,” Nusstorte the Transport Minister relayed through the transponder snail. “Currently thirty-two vessels has been thoroughly searched, fifty tons of smuggled osmotolerant yeast and ten tons of illegal tea leaves export has been confiscated. No sign of our younger siblings.”

Charlotte siblings missing lunch was a little odd.

_Purupurupuru- click!_

“Forty ships that left Tottoland within the past twelve hours has been recalled, ETA on Package Island in two hours,” Praline the Design Minister and modulator for their sea slug network informed, her voice muffled from using her phone underwater. “No sign of our younger siblings, Brother Katakuri.”

“Duly noted,” Katakuri replied.

Charlotte siblings missing their afternoon merienda was downright unfathomable.

_Purupurupuru- purupurupuru-_

_Purupurupuru- purupurupuru-_

_Purupuru- click!_

“Urgent intel from our informant stationed in Dressrosa, Brother Katakuri,” Cornstarch the Communications Minister spoke from a private line. Cornstarch and her triplet sister Mash—sharing the underworld alias Madam Love—were responsible for organizing the intelligence gathering system for Big Mom Pirates. Together with Counter and his happily married former CP agent wife, the four of them had established ties all around the globe.

“What is it?”

“Intel is not verified,” Cornstarch warned through the phone. “A young boy bearing resemblance to Newichi was spotted within Dressrosa, about an hour ago. Timestamp does not add up however, with direct voyage from Tottoland being a five-day travel at minimum on our fastest flotilla.”

“Newshi is capable of flight, so don’t rule out that possibility just yet.”

“Understood,” Cornstarch answered.

“Anything else on Dressrosa?” Katakuri cautiously inquired. That island name sounded familiar, which was enough reason for alarm, since he never made a habit of remembering most inconsequential islands around the world. “Is that World Government sanctioned territory?”

“Yes,” Cornstarch confirmed. “That land is ruled by Warlord Donquixote Doflamingo—”

Katakuri was already sliding down the side of the stacked donut building, foresight haki echoing everything he needed to know before his younger sister even finished her report. His face blanched as curdled milk, bundled nerves on the verge of panic lodged in his throat.

_—underworld alias Joker, that man has direct ties with Kaido and the Beast Pirates._

Goddamnit.

Confronting Warlords for his precious younger siblings was all well and good, but risking war with another Sea Emperor would be pure idiocy.

A portable transponder snail chirped from the sleeve pocket of Katakuri’s leather cropped jacket, interrupting his inner turmoil. Katakuri answered the call without missing a beat. “Brulee?”

“Brother Katakuri, I just heard from Cornstarch that you’re going to Dressrosa.”

“Yes.”

“Are you taking your battleship?”

“No, too slow.”

Katakuri skidded down onto the plaza and whistled. A keen sharp-pitched noise.

Immediately the ground rumbled, answering his summon. A gigantic larva emerged from beneath, digging apart earth and stone with sturdy thoracic forelegs, and then reared up on powerful prolegs. The insect vroomed like an engine, huge gaping mouth baring razor fangs and pink underbelly contorted with contained energy. Its body sheen obsidian and lined with crimson spikes, decorated in gleaming black harness and silver belt chains, while proudly parading the number 1 on its flanks. This was the fastest creature that existed on the entire Tottoland archipelago, with speed comparable to freight trains—the amphibious motor caterpillar.

“I am taking Ugura,” Katakuri told Brulee through the telepathic mollusk clinging to his long sleeve, as he mounted onto the larval creature’s back. “Help me obtain an Eternal Pose to Dressrosa from Nusstorte. Send it to Seeding Town, that island is en route as I head further south.”

“No problem!”

“Much appreciated,” Katakuri thanked his dear younger sister. He then pulled tight his biker gloves and checked the Log Pose needles embedded upon the dashboard, before figuratively stepping on the accelerator pedal. “Let’s go, Ugura. Our first destination is Seed Island.”

Ugura the caterpillar roared, racing through the streets of Flour Town and leaving behind a cloud of grain powder, before dashing straight across the ocean while kicking up sangria sprays of delicious pomegranate juice. Similar to the distantly related aquatic centipedes also native to this coastal region, amphibious motor caterpillars were fully capable of travel on both land and sea.

Charlotte Katakuri planned on getting to Dressrosa within three days.

Fix everything, before Mama’s return to Tottoland. 

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katakuri has biker aesthetic, so he _absolutely_ needs a bike, and the only type worth having in One Piece are those that could traverse across the sea. Katakuri’s motor caterpillar is the same species as Anglais, albeit as full-grown adult. See inspiration here https://www.deviantart.com/krone-art/art/712218527
> 
> Mogura the spear and Ugura the bike are both named after the same pun animal, 土竜 which could be written as _moguramochi_ or _uguramochi_.
> 
> Due to storytelling constriction, not every child would get proper introduction in the main plot. For those not featured, allusions will be used to illustrate their abilities. Ch1., Dolce and Dragee are hinted as capable of assist-flight, based on talents in helium manipulation showcased in canon with balloons. Ch2., Katakuri demonstrated how Anglais could be like in five years serving as Tottoland's frontline naval guard, replacing the Pawn Chess peacekeepers that Pekoms easily tricked.


End file.
